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Without a word, he slipped one hand into her long, dark hair, tugging her close and kissing her so hard it made her breathless. She wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in. He parted his lips and she took the invitation to dip her tongue in, reveling in the taste as she felt his free hand slip down to slide over her butt. He squeezed her ass, pulling her more tightly against him until she could feel every part of that perfect body of his. His cock stiffened in his dusty uniform pants, and she ground against him, empowered at knowing she was making him this excited simply with a kiss.

  She moaned against his mouth as he cupped her ass with his other hand, too, almost yanking her off her toes as he fitted her against him more snuggly and moving his hips in a way that told her exactly how much he wanted her at that moment. Her body began to hum, and she was almost embarrassed by how turned on she was. At this rate she might orgasm before they got their clothes off.

  Bristol yearned to slide her hand down his chest and over his abs to caress his hard-on through his pants, but he was pressed up against her too tightly for that. Instead, she made do with wrapping her arm around him and caressing his well-sculpted back.

  Nick did some exploring of his own, and her breath caught as he slid one hand up and over her hip, slipping teasing fingers under the hem of her shirt, tracing them lightly across the bare skin of her side, moving higher. She murmured her approval against his mouth, encouraging him to shove her shirt all the way up, tear off her bra and run his hungry mouth over every bare inch of her tingling body.

  The urge was so overwhelming, she was ready to make love right there on the vanity counter…or even up against the wall.

  She was about to start begging when Nick suddenly pulled away and urged her back, putting some space between them. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but the words died on her lips at the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway. A split second later, her father stepped into the open doorway of the bathroom.

  “There you are, Nick.” Her father’s gaze slid over them, then the gauze, bandages and antiseptic bottle still on the counter. “I see Bristol tended to your injuries.”

  “I was more than ready to rub some dirt on them and call it good, but your daughter suggested first aid,” Nick said smoothly.

  Her father gave her an approving look. “Bristol can be practical once she recognizes something is in her best interest. She got that from her mother.”

  Fury filled Bristol like it did every time he mentioned her mother, and she stepped forward. Nick caught her arm before she could do anything. Not that she was sure what she would have done. Punching her father would have been satisfying though.

  Her father didn’t seem to notice her anger. Or maybe he simply didn’t care.

  “After you get cleaned up, come to my study,” he said to Nick. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out, leaving her alone with her anger…and Nick.

  Bristol turned and began cleaning up. Before she’d done more than stuff a few gauze pads back into their box, Nick was behind her, his body pressed up against hers, his arms around her waist. It was impossible to miss the way his still hard erection nestled up against her bottom.

  “Don’t believe for a second I’m not thinking about finishing what we started,” he said softly in her ear.

  Then Nick was gone, his booted footsteps echoing along the hall.

  As she slowly finished cleaning up, she couldn’t help smiling as she imagined what it might be like if they ever did get the chance to finish what they’d started.

  * * * * *

  “You don’t seem the worst for wear,” Munoz remarked.

  Nash took the glass of expensive single malt the man offered and dropped into the leather wing chair positioned in front of the cartel boss’s desk. It had taken him a few minutes to change clothes, but after a quick conversation with Dalton, he’d come straight to Munoz’s study as requested.

  He leaned back in his seat, his gaze drawn to the painting of a beautiful dark-haired woman on the wall behind the desk. For half a second, he thought the portrait was of Bristol, but the woman’s skin was much lighter, and he realized it must be Bristol’s mother. Nash couldn’t believe the cartel boss kept her picture in his study after he’d had her killed. Then again, maybe Munoz kept it as some kind of weird trophy. Or a constant reminder to Bristol.

  The thought made Nash want to kill the cartel boss.

  “Considering the fact that you were unarmed and Leon had a knife, one might say you came out of the fight nearly unscathed,” Munoz added as he moved around behind the desk and sat down.

  Picking up a polished wooden box, Munoz took off the lid and held it out. Nash could smell the sweet aroma of tobacco from where he sat. He shook his head, declining the offer.

  “I got a few scratches, nothing more,” Nash said in reply to Munoz comment. “I’m sure you didn’t ask me to come here to talk about my cuts and bruises. Why don’t we get to the point and talk about the fight Leon and I got into instead. I get the feeling it was supposed to be some kind of test.”

  Munoz clipped the end off a cigar, then lit it slowly and carefully, eyeing him the whole time. “It was. I needed to know what kind of man you really are when pushed.”

  Nash almost laughed. This clown had no idea what kind of man he was when pushed. But he was going to find out before this mission was over. “Why do you care what kind of man I am since it seems that neither you nor the men who work for you are interested in the training you’re paying me to provide?”

  Munoz puffed on his cigar and relaxed back in his pricey leather chair. “You’re right. I’m not interested in the weapons training you’re here to give. I’m interested in your other talents.”

  Nash sipped his whiskey, but didn’t say anything. He loved the sweet undertones you got with Scotch Whiskey. It was the only kind of alcohol he ever wasted his time on.

  “What do you think of my daughter?” Munoz asked.

  Nash’s hand tightened around the glass. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? It wasn’t like he could admit he still tasted Bristol on his lips from the make-out session they’d had earlier. No more than he could say that pulling away from her when he’d heard Munoz coming down the hallway had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life.

  Bristol had looked so damn edible right then, her eyes glazed with lust, her lips plump and inviting, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she’d tried to keep him from pushing her away. There was no doubt in his mind that if they hadn’t been interrupted they’d still be going at it right now. With absolutely no friggin' clothes on.

  No, he most definitely couldn’t tell that to Munoz.

  “She’s an amazing woman,” he finally said.

  Munoz breathed out a thick cloud of smoke through his nose then pointed his cigar at Nash. “You’re not a braggart. I can see why Bristol likes you. And she does like you. A father knows these things. But just as importantly, she respects you as well. You two would make a good couple.”

  Before Nash could point out that maybe Bristol would like to decide that for herself, Munoz reached under his desk and came out with a large metal briefcase, thumping it down on the desk.

  “Have you ever thought of working full time for someone instead of all this freelance work you do?” Munoz asked, slowly flicking the numbered dial on the front of the case before popping the latches. He spun it around to face Nash without opening the lid. “And before you answer, Edein Gojkic already told me that if I wanted to recruit you, I would need to start with a large sum of money and an attractive woman. You’ve already met the woman. Now meet the large sum of money.”

  Munoz flipped open the briefcase, displaying stacks of neatly bundled American hundred-dollar bills, complete with those little colored paper cuffs around them like they had in banks. Just for the fun of it, Nash did the math in his head, figuring there had to be at least $500,000 in front of him. That was more money in
one place than he’d ever seen in his life. Not that he would even know what to do with that kind of money if he had it, but he had to admit, it was fun looking at it.

  “This is just the signing bonus,” Munoz added. “If you come to work for me, you’ll get another briefcase like this every other month like clockwork.”

  As if to add emphasis, Munoz flipped one of the stacks in his direction. Nash caught it without thinking, wondering where a cartel boss got crisp bank-wrapped bills like this. But then the significance of the cartel boss’s earlier words filtered through. Munoz had just given him one of the pieces of information they’d been looking for.

  “So, Edein voluntarily gave you tips on what it would take to steal me away from him? I’m surprised,” Nash said casually.

  He had no idea who the hell Edein Gojkic was, but something told him the man had to be Nick Chapman’s current employer, the Russian arms dealer.

  Munoz laughed. “It’s the Russian in his blood that makes him pragmatic. He knows if you end up working for me, it likely means more arms deals for him. He would consider that a win-win situation. Though I have to admit, I don’t think he honestly thought I could lure you away. Of course, he’s never met my daughter.”

  Nash was torn between being thrilled and pissed. He was thrilled he now had the name of the Russian arms dealer they were after. But at the same time, the casual way Munoz was ready to use his daughter as a perk if Nash worked for him was just plain shitty.

  If the rest of this mission worked out right, Bristol wouldn’t have to deal with her asshole father much longer. Until then, Nash was going to have to suck up his disdain.

  “I have a few simple questions before I decide if I want to work for you,” he said, flipping the stack of $10,000 back into the briefcase.

  Munoz nodded, puffing his cigar.

  “What are you going to do with Leon?” he said bluntly. “Not that I give a shit really, but you have to realize there will be trouble between us if I decide to stay.”

  “Leon has served his purpose,” Munoz said. “He has been a loyal soldier and useful to have around, but he has always been limited in his contributions to the organization and will never go further than his brawn and ruthlessness will let him. His job can be filled by another easily enough.”

  Shit, talk about cold-blooded. Even for a drug cartel boss.

  “And what would I be doing if I decided to work for you?”

  Munoz leaned forward eagerly. “The cartels in Mexico—Amador included—are dying. It’s a slow death by a thousand-and-one paper cuts as the Federales and the army continue to take out members of our senior leadership one man at a time. Others move up to take their places of course, but each time this happens, the organization is weakened, and the next man up becomes more and more fixated on collecting wealth in the fastest way possible without regard to a long-term plan, much less the future at all.”

  “You have a different vision for the cartels?”

  Munoz nodded. “First and foremost, we need to move our focus away from North America. Eastern Europe, Russia, China, India…that’s where we’ve seen future growth in our business. At the same time, we need to branch out and diversify into other profitable activities. Illegal arms to be sure, but also industrial hacking and other cyber crimes at the global level. Of course, all of these new ventures require someone familiar with the international crime world. That’s where you come in. With my money and vision, and your connections, we could take the cartel in a completely new direction. We’d both be rich beyond belief.”

  Nash had to admit he was surprised. This wasn’t where he’d expected this conversation to go. Selling drugs in other parts of the world? Yeah, that he could believe. But industrial hacking and cyber crimes? That was next level stuff for a criminal organization. More like what you’d expect from a rogue nation like North Korea or Russia.

  Munoz actually did have vision. But that vision didn’t explain one very critical detail. A detail Roman and the CIA were keen on figuring out.

  “That sounds impressive, but what does any of this have to do with the missiles you purchased?” Nash asked. “How do they fit into your new cartel vision?”

  Munoz shrugged. “There are few in positions of authority within the organization that would accept that vision. Therefore, they need to be eliminated.”

  “You’re going to use the missiles to take out the other Amador bosses?” Nash asked. “I’m not sure I see how that’s going to work. What are you going to do, shoot them out of the air when they’re heading out on vacation?”

  “I won’t be going after the cartel bosses themselves. That would be a waste of time. If I cut off one of the snake’s heads, another would simply grow to replace it. I want you to take out a military aircraft carrying a general by the name of Carlos Medina Mora.”

  Nash was curious despite himself. “Okay. What will taking out a general do for you? And that would take one missile. What about the other four missiles you’ve bought? How are you going to use those?”

  “Targeting General Mora makes sense if you understand that he’s the man who runs the anti-cartel task force and works directly with the Attorney General’s office. He’s a hero to the people of Mexico, boldly leading attacks against not just the Amador cartel, but also others. Most would be terribly disappointed to know that General Mora is also corrupt and takes money from the very criminals he professes to hate so much.”

  “Corruption in the government? Say it isn’t so,” Nash quipped. “But if he’s already on the cartel payroll, why take him out?”

  “Because if he’s killed by someone in the cartels, the public outcry for retribution will be impossible to ignore. Those responsible for his death will be hounded to the very gates of hell. The cartel bosses as well as their lieutenants will be decimated in an all-out push by the Mexican army. A push that has thus far been restrained by politicians concerned about ceding too much power to the military.”

  It took Nash only a second to see the rest of the plan, and it wasn’t half bad. “You’re going to make sure those other missiles are found in the possession of the cartel bosses you most want eliminated?”

  Munoz smiled. “Exactly. My whole plan revolves around letting the authorities wipe out the existing leadership structure of the major Mexican cartels, then stepping into the leadership void after the smoke has cleared. And you’re going to help me do that by not only shooting down Mora’s plane but also getting the other missiles in the right places to be found afterward.”

  Yeah, like that was going to effing happen.

  “And what will we be doing during this purge?” Nash asked.

  There was a certain brilliance to Munoz’s scheme. Psychotic but brilliant.

  Munoz took a long puff of his cigar and sat back with a sigh. “The first phase is already in motion. We’ve been collecting up and hiding away stockpiles of the weapons, ammunition, and explosives that we’ll need once the dust settles. After that, the next part of the plan is simple. Once the dominos fall, all we have to do is sit back, enjoy the show, and focus on taking our operations international.”

  “It seems like you have this all planned out,” Nash said. “But none of those dominoes start falling until we finish the deal for those missiles. Has Roman told you when they’re supposed to arrive?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” Munoz said. “We’ll handle the final details of the deal then begin planning for phase two of the operation.” He leaned forward and nudged the briefcase full of cash in his direction. “Assuming of course that you’re going to take my offer. The ball is in your court, as you Americans like to say.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHAT ARE YOU so happy about?” Isabella asked when Bristol walked into the kitchen.

  After putting all the first-aid stuff away in the linen closet, she’d followed her nose to the kitchen where Isabella was making her famous chiles rellenos. No one made Poblano chiles stuffed with pork like Isabella. It was one of the things Bristol had missed when she’d be
en in college.

  Bristol smiled as she walked over to the fridge. “What makes you think I’m happy?”

  Isabella looked up from the sauce she was making to eye her appraisingly. “Because you were humming to yourself as you walked in and now you’re grinning from ear to ear.”

  Bristol was still trying to come up with an answer to that when Isabella’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And why are your lips so red?”

  Bristol lifted her fingers to her lips, half hiding another grin at the reminder of the amazing kiss she and Nick had shared a few minutes ago. She’d never been kissed so passionately before. Apparently, making out like that with a guy like him left a mark on a girl’s skin…and her heart as well.

  A knowing smile spread across Isabella’s face. “You’ve been kissing that man of yours, haven’t you?”

  Bristol took out a pitcher of homemade iced tea. “And if I was? Is there something wrong with two people kissing each other if they want?”

  Isabella shook her head, her smile fading a little as she continued to stir the sauce. “Of course not, mija. As long as you know what you’re getting yourself into. I know you can take care of yourself, but I still don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Bristol opened her mouth to tell Isabella she was worrying about nothing, but then closed it again. She poured the tea into a tall glass, then put the pitcher back into the fridge before turning to face Isabella. How could she fault her friend for saying the same thing she’d been thinking herself? At least up until she and Nick had made out in the bathroom a few minutes ago.

  “I’m not going to get hurt,” she said. “You can think I’m crazy if you want, but when I’m with Nick, I feel things that I’ve never felt before. And when he says he’ll do everything he can to keep me safe and make sure my father pays for what he did to my mother, I believe him.”

  Isabella blinked in surprise. “You told him what happened to your mother? What Señor Munoz did to her?”